


Won't Always Strike Out

by junojjones



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-04-17 22:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14199240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junojjones/pseuds/junojjones
Summary: Post Career of Evil. Wishful thinking/Random drabble.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Might be multi chapter, will update as I go along. Totally not beta'd, so if you see something, say something and I'll fix it! Also completely open to prompts for this series. :)

Robin couldn't remember a time she had been more angry with her boss. 

It was three years to the day since Cormoran had made her Junior Partner. Three years, and he still filtered her clients, making sure she didn't get anything too dangerous. He made sure to save most of the unsolved murders for himself, and while always asking for her help with research, or to help him keep tabs on a client, he never let her do any of it alone, and always followed her if she needed to do late night surveillance for her own clients. It was wearing him thin, and Robin had made that argument more than once. But today she had absolutely snapped. 

Cormoran stomped away from her, after a particularly vehement denial, moving toward his inner office, intending to slam his office door between them as he always did when he wanted to end a conversation.  Robin fumed for a moment watching his broad shouldered shuffle, but then charged forward, unable to stand the thought of him closing her out again.

"Don't you dare, you big brute!" She barked after him, shoving past him rudely, putting him off balance in the small hall. 

This wasn't the first time he refused to send her out on a job, but it also wasn't the first time she had won an arguement, and while she was getting bloody sick of having to try each time, she was determined. 

She was also unwilling to let her own warm feelings toward his protectiveness get in the way of her getting this job for herself. 

She turned to face him, back pressed against his door to prevent him from opening it. He grunted as his elbow collided with the wall as he caught himself, glaring at her with a single brow raised. 

His face was flushed, eyes serious and intense, and Robin felt her stomach flip as he pushed himself back up to his full hieght, those warm feelings getting hotter and spreading as she looking him over. She flushed, a little embarrassed at her reaction to him. No matter how much she tried to deny it, to remind herself that he probably saw her as a little sister, she still couldn't help but react to him when he got too close.

" I said no." He said nodding at the door pointedly, with an expression she had grown to recognize as him silently asking her to shove off.

She shook her head firmly, refusing to move a budge, even when he moved in closer, pushing against the door with both hands to see if he could rattle it open and move past her. Even when her skin erupted into gooseflesh simply from standing so close. Even as his attempt to get past had him struggling to release her grip on the door, bare fingers against hers sending shivers down her spine. 

" I'm not some child you can control. I want to go. I want this case. We're partners!" She said accusingly, as though this were a bit of fun he was denying her, and not tracking a known murderer around the country side alone for a weekend.

Cormoran sighed harshly, placing both hands against the door on either side of her head, giving up on moving her. For now.  

" That's not.. I know you're not... Blimey Robin!"  
He starred down at her, looking more than slightly ruffled. She could feel the heat (Anger?) radiating off of him, his breath skimming across her cheek as he leaned forward in his frustration. He truly looked properly offended by what she said. 

" Corm.." she said, softer now, hooking one hand on his right arm to focus him, and pull him out of the angry cloud she could see they had brewed together. "....I'd be careful." 

She was watching his eyes when something in them changed, and she couldn't help the heat that erupted somewhere below her navel when she noticed that he was staring at her mouth. She felt her face flush, and she took a deep steadying breath when she realised she had begun to hold it. 

" I can barely protect you here in London." He said gruffly, wrenching his gaze back to hers suddenly. He  shifted his weight from the prostithis to his good leg, as if to highlight his inadequatecies. Her heart ached at the thought that he would feel any shame about that because of her.

 He brought his hand up to the scar on her forearm arm, no doubt remembering the night she'd got it. He had been on the other end of a dropped cell phone, helplessly listening to her struggle and scream as she fended off her attacker. 

" How can I... I don't want to see you hurt again. I don't want to lose--" He finished abruptly, dropping his head to stare at the floor between them, as though he had been caught about to say something not allowed. 

Robin didn't know what possessed her, maybe it was the small fire he had kindled inside of her with those dark staring eyes, maybe she was simply worn out and tired of fighting,  or maybe his faltering confession  had sparked in her  bit of hope. Either way she  decided to move. 

Straightening up off the door, she placed both hands on on his cheeks until he looked back up at her, half startled to find her face so close to his. From this angle she could see his pupils flare, and felt the hitch in his chest as his breath caught. 

" I can take care of myself... I can make my own decisions." She whispered, suddenly unsure what that were debating anymore. " I know what I want..."  
She leaned back against the door, and he swayed forward with her.

 She didn't realise how badly she'd wanted him to follow and press his body to hers until he stopped himself short, mouth dangerously close. 

"Robin..." He sighed, looking her in the eye, forehead creased with something akin to pain. 

"Shh." She hushed, dropping one hand to his shoulder, her other fingers trailing his stubbled jaw absent mindedly as she found herself staring at his mouth in turn, heat curling through her. " I want to do this..." She trailed off. 

Their eyes connect sharply, for the barest of seconds, and then he leaned down and caught her mouth with his in what Robin could only describe as one of the most searing kisses she had ever experienced. 

His mouth was hot, and demanded entrance immediately. She granted it as he cupped her cheek gently, tilting her head back slightly, and leaning against her finally, pressing her into his office door. 

His kiss was desperate, possessive, and absolutely took her breath away. 

He broke away after a moment with a gruff curse. He pressed his forehead against hers, with his eyes closed, seemingly catching his breath. 

Robins heart was thundering in her chest, mouth tingling as she gave him the time he needed to recover from his spontinaity. 

"Fuck.." he muttered, pulling away slightly, but not quite able to let her go. " I'm sorry... I shouldn't have--" 

Robin shook her head, pressing her fingers to his lips to stop him, gently tracing his scar, suddenly wanting to know how it would feel against her neck. She had hoped he would kiss her, wanted it, but had not thought he noticed her in that way. Until now of course. 

" Yes. You should have. Sooner." She finished firmly, sliding her fingers into his hair, reveling in the dark curls. 

His eyes were fixed on hers, as if calculating her words carefully, almost as if he didn't believe them, or couldn't quite place their meaning. 

" Cormoran..." She smiled softly. " I want to do this, too..." And she tugged his hair gently, pulling him back down into another kiss. 

\- 

Strike groaned as he let himself be pulled back to her, claiming her mouth eagerly. His heart pounded against his ribs, loud enough he was sure, for Robin to hear. 

His hand went to her waist hesitantly, still a little bewildered, unbelieving that she had actually pulled him in for this kiss. She arched into him though, pressing against him firmly as  her hot open mouth moved against his. 

 She  tasted like hot molten honey, and he moaned again low in his chest, hands sliding around to her back, gripping her shoulder blades firmly as he pressed her into the door. 

The blasted latch finally decided to give, suddenly tossing them haphazardly into his office, almost tipping them both onto the floor. Robin laughed against his mouth as he steadied them. 

" Bloody door..." He muttered, almost a growl, against her beautiful lips. 

 He was suddenly grinning. His heart felt light as she beamed back up at him, chewing on her lower lip as her fingers curled against the back of his neck. Strike felt a shiver of want move through him with a ferocity he had never felt before. 

He pressed his forehead to hers again, taking a deep breath full of her soft perfume. 

" Robin..." He said softly. " I have waited... I have wanted that, this... For so long." He shook his head slowly, opening his eyes to look at her again. She was still grinning up at him, moving to link her arms completely around his shoulders. 

" Me too.. I can't believe it!" She said chewing her lower lip again, " ...you actually do fancy me then, yeah?" She asked, giving him the impression that she was still as nervous as he was about this. 

He tried to think back to the first time he'd put it together that he'd begun to fancy her. Was it the first time she'd come in late, blue circles under eyes, looking miserable after an all night row with Matthew. 

She deserves better. He had thought, irritation boiling as she described all the awful things Matthew had said to her. 

You would never treat her like that. 

Strike had lost track of what Robin was saying, as he imagine just how Strike would treat her had he been so lucky as to have her. 

5 years then. It must have been 5 years since he'd started having to brace himself every time she entered the same room. 5 years since he'd had to drag his eyes away from hers when she beamed with pride, for fear she would see exactly what was reflected in his mind. 

It had been relatively easy when she was with Matthew. Strike had disliked Matthew since the moment he'd met him with Robin for drinks  all those years ago. Robin knew of course, but they never spoke about it. He knew Robin had assumed he was simply just generally overprotective, which is exactly what he had hoped she'd think. 

After Robin left Matthew however, a small blossom of hope had flickered inside of him. One that he barely awknowledged for fear of it being crushed. 

Don't be silly mate. He'd thought to himself the night she told him, over drinks at the pub down the street from their office. They were out celebrating another excellently excecuted case, and he had noted that while Robin was appropriately saddened by her failed marriage of 6 months, that she sat straighter, smiled easier, and was not willing to dwell on the subject when he had offered his condolences. He wondered if she felt freed, elated perhaps, to be moving on from that restrictive and frankly abusive part of her life. 

She had reached out and touched his hand gently as she laughed particularly hard at something he said, and Strike had to curtail the emotions that ran through him quickly. She's just decided to leave him. Don't get carried away. He told himself.

And so he had waited ever since. Doubting, wanting, hiding his own feeling for her for the last 5 years, and here now knowing that she felt the same in this moment, his chest felt ready to burst. 

 

" I think I'm a little past that, yeah?" He said to her, watching her face as he slid his hands up and down her back, hoping he wasn't saying too much. 

Robin beamed up at him though, which while it did nothing to calm the thunder of his heart, it certainly reduced his worry. He grinned back, and pressed her lips with another kiss simply because he couldn't stand another moment without doing it. 

\- 

A knock on the outer office door startled them apart, and Robin giggled at the way Cormoran jumped. He grinned sheepishly at her, and glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. 

" Bloody Christ. That will be our Mrs. Whitelock."  
   
 Robin blushed, righting herself before whisking quickly to the front office door to unlock it, and open it for their client. 

She greeted Mrs. Whitelock kindly, and ushered her onto the couch and offered her tea to give Cormoran, and herself, a moment. 

Robin couldn't help but smile to herself as she put the kettle on, glancing through the glass above the sink to watch as Cormoran made sure he was presentable, running a hand through his hair. Once he was seated at his desk, he glanced up too, and caught her peeking through. His answering smile made her heart skip wildly, and she quickly turned back to Mrs. Whitelock. 

" You can go on through, Mrs. I will bring tea along shortly if you would like to get started with Mr. Strike."  She said pulling two mugs down from the cupboard. 

Once she had a cup for both their client and Cormoran, Robin brought a tray through, placing it on the detectives desk, trying not to linger too long and make a fool out of herself.  
She could still feel the tremble his kisses had cause moving through her viens. 

Back at her desk, she opened the office calander, and begun to compile their to do list for the rest of the day, including packing for her weekend away for the tailing job. She hummed quietly to herself, barely inclined to complain about how their part time temp had mucked about with the schedule and gotten everything wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Robin/Strike fun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I pulled Rye and Playden from a travel site. I am terrible with geography. Apologies for any inconsistencies. 
> 
> \- Carcassonne is a popular board game in Canada, not sure if its popular over the pond.

Strike nodded sympathetically as Mrs Whitelock sniffled into her handkerchief, her description of her son's disappearance slightly muffled as she hurried along, seemingly wanting to get it all out as soon as possible. This was often the case with disappearances. The clients were so desperate for help, they rushed through their whole story, scarcely giving pause for breath. 

This is why Strike always scheduled a follow up after his initial look at the case. It gave him a chance to get the story a second time, at a slower pace. He found that he often got more useful information the second time around. 

Strike straightened suddenly as Robin entered the room with a second round of tea. There was a plate with biscuits this time, and Strike smiled his thanks as Mrs Whitelock kept up her stream of words. He continued to jot notes. This was an effortless routine for him. It was second nature to take notes after all these years. So much so that his mind could be completely otherwise occupied.

With thoughts of Robin's hands in his hair, for example. 

As usual, Robin grabbed the first few sheets of notes he'd taken so she could get to work looking up anything he had starred, and get it back to him before concluding the interview. 

Mrs. Whitelock was done by the time Robin came back this time, but was lost in telling childhood stories of her "Poor Roger." 

Robin handed him her search results directly and winked slyly, which distracted Strike only a  little. He furrowed his brow and coughed lightly hoping that the heat in his face didn't show as a blush as he politely let Mrs Whitelock finish, shuffling Robin's search results. He stopped suddenly, looking at the last page of notes, where Robin had jotted something off angle in her elegant hand. 

 Drinks. @ Totts. 7.  
You're free-- I checked.

\- R 

"Mr Strike?" Mrs Whitelock asked, and Strike looked up from the note, suddenly realising he had been grinning down at it.

Tramping down his smile he nodded, coughing awkwardly.

" Yes, well I have to look further into Rogers movements that night, but you've given me a lot to go on, and I'm confident that I'll be in touch with information in a few days, Mrs. Whitelock."  He said formally, ripping Robin's note off the bottom, and tucking the rest of the sheaf of yellow lined paper away in the folder he had started with her.

" Oh thank you Mr. Strike. Thank you. I am so worried. It is so unlike Roger to disappear for so long. I know the police said they are doing everything they can, but.. but people don't just disappear without calling their mums!' " She scoffed.

Strike reassured her again, shuffling more papers about officially, and Mrs. Whitelock nodded gratefully, standing when he did, turning with him as he gently ushered her out the door. 

" I'll have my secretary send you the paperwork." He said, waving perhaps a little too cheerily given the circumstance as the woman tottered down the steps.

He turned to find Robin donning her coat, flipping her fire like hair out from beneath her collar. 

" You're not going to charge her are you?" Robin asked with a smirk, wrapping her scarf about her neck slowly. 

" I'm not am I?" He raised his eyebrow at her.  
 " Where are you going?" 

"Clearly not. It's definitely a week away with the boys. Probably a drug problem. He's trying to sleep it off, or keep it going, and doesn't want to slur his way through an explanation over the phone." She handed him a news clipping of a rager house party that had been busted for heavy drug use and underagers a few days earlier, just down the street from Mrs Whitelocks flat. "Mates from the same school were arrested. Same year as Roger. That's why his room looks like it's been sacked. He probably moved through there hoping his mum would think she'd only missed him, and won't think he's in trouble." 

Strike studied the clipping, with a small smirk. " You're getting fast." He said, looking up at her.   She smiled back, and grabbed her handbag, heading for the door. 

" Oi, where are you going?" He asked her again, catching her hand gently, tossing the clipping onto a cabinet.

Robin smiled, stopping to face him. 

" I already called the youth hostel not far from the Whitelock residence. It's close to the cleaners. I fancy a walk, so I figured I would save you, and Mrs Whitelock, the trouble." She smirked, leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth.

Despite the thrill it sent through him because of its newness, it felt like a normal thing for her to do. As though she should have been doing it since the day he slammed into her all those years ago. As though she had been doing it forever.

" Keep up, Mr. Strike. Or am I going to fast for ya?" She teased when he said nothing for a moment. He couldn't help but grin, even if it was at his own expense.

" Aye. Get out then woman." He smirked, leaning in and giving her a proper kiss goodbye. 

\- 

Robin clipped down the street at a brisk pace, basking in the feeble glow of the mid morning sun peeking through a scattering of clouds. The weatherman was calling for rain later, so Robin was glad for her chance to soak up the few rays she could before a harsh fall drizzle could resume. 

When her phone rang she was just two blocks from the cleaners, and just four from the hostel she was sure she would find young Roger sleeping off a hangover.

" Hiya Ilsa!" Robin answered cheerfully. 

"Uhm.. yes, Robin? My god I haven't heard you this cheerful since Christmas." Ilsa laughed at her friends outward enthusiasm. Robin laughed with her, and thought that her Ilsa was probably right. 

" How are you?"  She asked as she stopped to waiting to cross at a light. 

" I'm well. Listen Robin, I just thought I would ring to see if you wouldn't mind dragging Cormoran out to see us this weekend? Nick won't say, but he misses him terribly, and Carcassonne is much more fun with four. I'd ask Corm, but you have all been so busy lately, he always gives us the go around, the bugger." 

Robin made a sound of genuine disappointment. " Oh shoot Ilse. I can't, I've got to go out to Rye for the weekend. For a job. Our target might be out near Playden." She said apologetically. She mentally scrolled through their schedule for the week. " Could I beg for Friday? Cormoran has a meeting, but I can have Tish reschedule since she didn't actually tell the client anyway." 

"Oh! Oh yeah. I'll talk to Nick and see what we can do for Friday. I'll text! Cheers!" 

Robin hung up smiling to herself, wondering how Cormoran would feel having to face Nick and Ilsa's utter glee if they found out about their little 'chat' this morning. She found herself suddenly looking forward to watching Cormoran squirm, but only just a little. 

\- 

Strike watched the pub around him slowly fill until a good crowd eager for the match to start had formed, pre game celebrations in full swing. He had arrived early, wanting to secure a table for himself and Robin. 

He was currently tucked into a small booth by the window, and was just signaling the barkeep that he would like another pint to help calm his nerves. 

He jiggled his good leg incessantly, checking the time on the clock above the bar once more. Quarter past, and Robin had said seven. He had smoothed his fingers over her little note from this morning enough times now to have commited every loop to memory. 

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his dark hair, mussing it about quite a bit. This wasn't the first time he and Robin had drinks down at the pub, and it certainly wasn't the first time he had found himself nervous when they spent time just the two of them. 

All those other times however were pre-kiss. When the possibility of kissing was something Strike would have thought laughable. He would never had thought himself so lucky in those pre-kiss moments. Instead he had pined silently, keeping just enough of a distance that he could resist respectfully. 

Here now, in this post-kiss world Strike now found himself in, well... So much was possible. And there was so much more at risk. 

He had said things he could not take back, even if Robin regretted their shared morning kisses. Even if she had spent the rest of her day coming to the inevitable realisation that Strike could never be good enough for her..

It was out there now, completely un-take-back-able.

He would know, that she knew, what he had always known, and that she would always be--

Strike's phone dinged just as the barkeep pulled him out of his own head, putting another pint in front of him.  He nodded his thanks to the chap, and dug the phone out of his pocket. It was Nick texting. 

Oi mate! Bring that Belgian white you brought last time, yeah? It was really grand. Thanks! 

Strike frowned down at the screen, swiping the screen over the text absently. He scrolled back on their previous conversations to check and see when he made plans. He was hard booked as far as the schedule at the office was concerned. 

Another ding came in, and scrolled him to Nick's newest message. 

Ilsie talked to Robin. She said you guys were good for Friday, yeah? Carcassonne!

Strike laughed at his friends enthusiasm. He imagined if Ilsa had got a hold of Robin, the plans were solid by now. He smiled to himself wondering if Nick and Ilsa would notice anything different about Post-kiss Robin and Strike.

It was almost as though thinking of her conjured her. 

Strike's grip tightened on his phone when he looked up and caught sight of her making her way toward him through the crowd that surrounded his little table. He swallowed hard. 

She was wearing a flattering rose gold dress that clung to all the right places beneath her open beige trench coat, and--

 Bloody Christ, how could she stay upright in those heels? 

Strike suddenly felt all too shabby in his plain black dress shirt and dark jeans. 

" Hiya!" Robin smiled brightly, dropping her handbag onto the booth bench across from him. 

Strike stood immeadiately, and reached for her coat a little more quickly than general politeness required. 

" Oh, thank you!" Robin said turning as he helped her out of her jacket. 

" 'ello." He said softly, unable to help but notice that while the dress was long sleeved,  the cut at the back was dipping in a deep scoop down her back. He had to remind him self that stroking her back now would be impossible, if not only ridiculous, unless he first put her coat away. 

He counted his breaths as he gently folded her coat and stacked it on his bench, atop of his own, next to where he sat. 

"White wine, yeah?" He barely asked, moving toward the bar, already half turned, eager to get her a drink and return to her as soon as possible. He stopped when he felt the press of her fingers against his palm. 

" Corm..." She smiled up at him with a new warmth softening her eyes. " ... Thank you." 

He beamed back, and lifted her hand gently, pressing a kiss to the back of it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Don't forget to bookmark to get updated when I add chapters! 
> 
> Again, this is completely unbeta'd, so apologies for any mistakes. If you see something, say something, and I'll fix it. :)

Robin was glad for their little booth. She was happy that it forced them to sit close, hunched over their tiny table, occasionally bumping elbows, or grazing fingers against the back of each other's hands. She was glad for the noise too, drowning out the sound of her own heart thudding against her rib cage. 

They sat and chatted, drinks in hand for at least an hour before Cormoran plucked up enough courage to drop his hand on top of hers where it lay next to her glass. Robin smiled with the energy of a smitten teenager, turning her hand to twine her fingers through his. 

" I hear you made us plans with Ilsa and Nick." Cormoran was smirking over his pint glass at her. She felt her cheeks redden a little, but she laughed, smirking back.

" No going back after that. You have 48 hours to back out or they will surely figure out that we've snogged. " She squeezed his fingers. 

Cormoran shrugged with a teasing smile. " Or, I mean I could certainly keep to myself and feign innocence, but you're right, you will certainly give us away." He took a long sip of his pint. 

Robin gasped in mock indignation, pulling her hand from his. 

" Excuse me, Detective! I will have you know that my poker face is flawless. " She said with a laugh, which only deepened when he made a face at her expressing his doubt. He captured her hand again laughing with her. 

The conversation was just as easy as it had been for years now, except now Robin didn't feel like she had to look away when he caught her watching him, and when she felt the urge to reach out and touch his hand, she could do just that. Her chest tightened with a joy so pure she was a little worried it wasn't real.

You're in love with him. 

The thought struck her suddenly. It was something that had been coming on slowly all these years, but suddenly she just knew. She took a large gulp of her wine to cover the look of astonishment she was was sure was written all over her face. 

 

\- 

Strike paid the bill at the bar, smiling at the barkeep with uncharacteristic cheerfulness. He stuffed his wallet back into the side breast pocket of his coat, and grabbed a mint from the little bowl by the cash. 

Making his way back to the table to collect Robin, he wondered what she would say if he asked her back to his place. Was he playing it too fast? Would she be offended? He shouldn't ask. 

Strike wanted her, but he would settle for just getting to hold her while they watched tele, he knew however there was no way to form the question that didn't make it look like he was after more. He loved this woman, and certainly didnt want to scare her away now that they had finally gotten it out in the open. When they were just beginning...

" I don't want to go home." Robin said, interrupting his train of thought. She already had her coat kinched around her waist, her bag hooked over he shoulder. Her cheeks were a little red, from the wine Strike thought, and he couldn't help the tightening feeling in his chest as she looked up at him. 

" We could grab coffee..." Strike offered, glancing at his watch. It was late, but a cafe or two should still be open. 

Robin scrunched her nose adorably as they left the pub, and Strike felt himself drawn to kiss her. He resisted only because he didn't want to stop watching her. 

" I'm not really in the mood for coffee..." Robin hesitated. " I was thinking something with a little less of a crowd..." 

Strike ducked his head and lit a cigarette while he contemplated, glad he had something to distract himself from stuttering a response. 

" We could go back to mine...?" He said after a moment, taking a drag from his cigarette, hoping he didn't sound nervous. " I mean, we could watch a show, or a movie or something..." He tried to sound casual. 

Robins answering smile was  entirely too enticing, and Strike reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, as if he hadn't spent the last five years yearning to do just that. 

" That sounds perfect..." 

A short while later, Strike led the way up the familiar staircase to his place, keys jingling as he figeted with them. Robin's footsteps behind him sounded heavy, her heals sharp on metal.  
His knee twinged with each step, and he couldn't  imagine having to climb these stairs in anything but his usual dress shoes. 

He opened the door to his flat flipping on the lights. He was suddenly glad that the business had started to make enough money that he could afford a cleaner in once a week.

 It was Robin who had suggested it once awhile back, now that he thought of it. He had complained that he's struck his knee trying to tidy up, and she had instantly pulled up several services for him, showing him that the cost was within his budget. 

Once consistently clean, Strike had fixed it up a bit, getting more comfortable furniture, a small coffee table, and a small tv. Even a little coat of pain throughout had brightened it up a little. It wasnt extravagant, nor did he need it to be as he spent most of his few free days at Nick and Ilsa's, but it was nice for watching a match by himself now and then.

Strike held the door as Robin shuffled in, taking off her shoes instantly, with a sigh of appreciation. She smiled a little bashfully. 

" I love those shoes, but they pinch something feirce!" She said, removing her coat, which Strike hung behind the door for her, just over his own. 

" They look well on you, but if they hurt, why wear them?" He asked, looking at her poor reddened toes.

She peered down as well, wiggling her toes. 

" Honestly, I wear them for the look on your face when you notice..." She smirked, peeking up at him from beneath her lashes. 

He laughed, trying not to eye her legs too much. " Why don't you go pick something to watch, I'm just gonna pop to the loo." 

\- 

Robin tucked her feet up beneath her on the comfortable love seat in front of the tv, glad that she had helped Cormoran set up the small entertainment center a few years back. She was flicking channels looking for something she wouldn't mind missing when Cormoran came through from the small kitchenette, and handed her a beer. 

" Ta." She murmured as he sat next to her. He put his drink on the small table in front of them, and motioned for her to move her legs. 

" Give me your feet, woman." He said with a small smile crinkling the corner of his eyes. 

Robin's eyes widened. "Wot?" 

Cormoran laughed, reaching out with his hands. " They must be sore, give them here. I've been told I have big hairy mitts, but I've got strong fingers." 

Robin swallowed hard, trying not to think about his strong fingers. 

" You don't have to..." She said reluctantly uncurling herself, turning to put her back against the arm rest. 

" You climb those stairs in silly shoes every day for me, Robin, its the least I can do." He caught her heels, and gently lifted her feet into his lap. 

"Hmm..." Any protest Robin was about to make died in the back of her throat as Cormoran began to apply firm pressure to the soles of her feet in slow soothing strokes.  

"God..." She sighed after a moment, the tension in the rest of her slowly melting away as the pain in her feet dissolved. 

Robin relaxed slowly, sipping the beer Cormoran had given her, and enjoying the strength of his fingers on her arches. They both watched the program on tv absently, though Robin couldn't really pay all that much attention while Cormorans hands moved against her feet, ankles and then slowly along her calves. 

After awhile, she'd finished her beer, and extracted her feet from his lap, and excused herself to the loo. 

" I didn't realise the time!" She said, returning.  
 " I've missed the last train." She was searching her phone for a taxi number. 

" So just stay." He said, and she look up at him. She chewed her lip, a little unsure. She didn't want to put them in a position they would regret. 

" You can have my bed, if you want, I can stay out here..." He stood and took her hand, " I mean it. I.. I don't want to rush this... I care about you, and now that I know you feel the same.. well, we have time. " He said, as though he had read her mind. 

And all at once she had never been more sure. 

-

Strike hoped he didn't sound like a complete tit, but he wanted to make sure Robin knew his offer wasn't purely lurid. He stroked the palm of her hand with his thumb as he watched her contemplation.

" I know what you mean." She said after awhile, squeezing his fingers. She tilted her chin to look up at him. 

" I want you. I have for a long time. I want to stay. It feels right, and regardless of what does or does not happen... Well. I imagine I won't regret it come the morning." Her smile was soft. " Quicker trip into the office..." 

Strike chuckled and pulled her toward him. " Hmm.. I'll get you a shirt to sleep in...?" He asked leading her toward his small room.

" Yes please... And Corm?" 

He looked over his shoulder as she followed him, brow raised. 

" I don't want you to kip out here... Please stay with me." She finished once they had both crossed the threshold of his dark room. 

He swallowed hard, glad for the darkness. He was sure his building desire was showing plainly all over his face. He nodded though, and released her hand to get her a t-shirt. He felt awkward for a moment as he handed it to her, caught between offering to help her unzip her dress and offering her privacy. 

Before he could do either though, Robin had reached back and unzipped the dress herself, turning her back to him as she shuffled out of it. Strike caught a glimpse of creamy skin and dark lace before he turned his own back to her, and began to unbutton his own shirt slowly, busying himself getting ready for bed and willing himself to calm the bloody hell down. 

He briefly wondered if he should don a sleep shirt, but settled for simply keeping his boxers on. It was warm enough in his little attic room, and he didn't want to stifle both of them as they slept. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, pushing off his jeans, and undoing the buckles of his prosthesis. He couldn't help but groan softly as the buckles released, as he felt the first ebb of relief in his knee all day. 

".. Can I... Help?" Robin asked shyly from behind him. He glance back over his shoulder at her, standing in the half dark, his t-shirt loose fitting, and hitting her mid thigh. He swallowed hard again, and then nodded, sure that he would never be able to refuse her anything ever again. 

She came around in front of him, and knelt at his feet. Her hands were cool against his thigh. He was about to offer her pointers, but her hands moved swiftly and surely. He supposed she had seen him do this a thousand times, her being one of the few people he could stand to let near enough to witness these moments of weakness. 

He helped her ease the leg off, and pointed for her to place the leg against the bedside table. Once propped there, she turned to him again, and he couldn't help but stare at her, knees poking out from under his sleep shirt, hair curling softly around her beautiful upturned face. 

The air felt thick for a moment, making it hard to draw a breath. He heard Robin inhale softly, and felt her pressing her hands to his knees, lifting herself up on her own, to kiss him softly on the mouth.

Kneeling on the floor with him sitting on the edge of the bed her face was level with his, and he cupped her jaw with his hands. 

" You are so beautiful..." He breathed against her mouth, feeling her fingers flex against his thighs. She smiled, looking into his eyes. 

He kissed her again, slowly savoring her soft sigh, and the feeling of her pressing into him. She was glorious pink and gold curves in the soft glow of sleeping city lights that filtered through the small window that sloped on the inclined ceiling above his bed.

Her hands were suddenly in his hair, and she rose, not breaking contact, but shifting and lowering herself into his lap carefully minding his knee. She was straddling him, and Strike was sure he had never seen or felt anything more glorious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short update! Sorry for the long absence! I will be back to a regular posting schedule soon! :)

Cormoran was driving her absolutely mad.

Robin inhaled sharply when his mouth connected with the side of her neck. Her whole body thrilling at the feeling of his lips and rough beard brushing her pulsepoint. 

She hummed against his temple, fingers threading through his thick hair, as his large hands spanned her back to hold her steady in his lap. 

"Corm.." she murmured, and he brought his mouth back to hers, kissing her deeply. 

When he pulled away after a few long minutes, he pressed his forehead against her chin, breathing heavily.

Cormoran looked up at her shaking his head slightly, looking a little bewildered. 

" How have I gotten so lucky?" He whispered, his eyes soft, a smile Robin had never seen before playing at the corner of his mouth. It nearly took her breath away, but she managed to smile back. 

"We won't always strike out." She said, running her hand along his jaw. " We were due for a homerun, yeah?."

Cormoran laughed, pulling her gently with him as he rolled them onto their sides on the bed. Once adjusted up by the pillows, they lay facing each other, grinning like two conspiring teenagers in the dark. 

" I didn't know you watched baseball." 

Robin shrugged, curling herself into his arms, kissing him once softly, feeling a little silly with giddiness. 

" My da had a weird facination with the NLB when us kids were growing up." 

Cormoran nodded, looking a little  impressed. He kissed her again, his arms wrapping around her securely. 

Robin snuggled in as close as she could, brushing her nose lightly across his, as they settled, slowly starting to drift. 

"Corm?" Robin asked sleepily after a moment, blinking slowly at him in the dark.

"Yeah?" He asked, voice slightly muffled in her hair as he leaned forward to press another kiss to her forehead.

" I don't ever want to be anywhere else." She admittedly softly. 

She felt his arms tighten around her waist, as he kissed her again, taking his time with it. She savored the way he seemed to wrap completely around her, enveloping her in his scent, heat, and soul. 

Her fingers threaded through his thick curls, and she slowly hooked a leg over his hip, moaning when he took that as the invitation she intended and slid a hand down over her hip to grip her thigh, holding her in place.

She was suddenly very awake.

 

-

Strike moved slowly, trying desperately to force his racing heart and mind to match the rythm of the moment.

 Robin wasnt helping matters. 

Her mouth moved eagerly against his, hips wriggling against him. He gripped her thigh, slowly moving against her, groaning into their kiss as she dug her nails into the back of his neck. 

He felt Robin jerk away seconds after registering that his mobile was ringing on the night stand. 

"Hmm, ignore it." He said chasing her mouth with his. He found that he missed though, lips landing on her chin, as she laughed above him.

" It's late.. maybe it's important." She said, cupping the sides of his face her smile soft, eye sparkling. 

Strike groaned, planting another kiss on her chin, and then leaning to the side to grab his phone, putting it to his ear, and Robin slid from his lap to sit next to him. 

"Yes?" He answered, perhaps a little more tersley then he normally would. 

-

Robin watched as his expression changed. Gone was the loose sloppy smile she had grown accustomed to. The tight knot at the corner of his mouth was back in and instant, and Robin felt her stomach drop as she registered a shrill voice on the other end. 

"Luce..?" Cormoran asked into the phone, pressing the screen tight against his ear. "Luce slow down, I don't underst-" 

Robin grabbed his shoulder and moved close, her brow knitting in concern. The voice quieted, and Cormoran seemed to curl in on himself, both hands cupping the phone that he held. 

" No- Lucy. It's okay. You're not there. Where is --? Remember you're at home, with -- and the kids..." 

Robin watched as Cormoron turned from fear to comfort in an instant, almost like pulling out a mask one was farmiliar with wearing. 

" Shhh shh, Luce. I've got you then, yeah? I'm here. Listen to my voice..." And then suddenly the room was filled with a low humming timbre, a tune Robin was sure she had heard, coming from the man seated in the dark next to her on the bed. She couldn't help but curl herself against his back, slipping her arms around his waist as he comforted Lucy. 

She felt her heart clench in her chest when she realised this was not the first time he would have comforted her. The childhood tune Cormorant was humming, the ease in which he slipped into the caretaker role for Lucy, it was immediately obvious to her that this was a regular routine from their time living together as children. 

Robin closed her eyes, pressing her face against Cormorans shoulder blade, pushing away the images of just what could have cause the kind of trauma Lucy and Cormoran were working through. 

" You're okay, yeah? I'll be there in 20 minutes, just breathe Luce." She heard Cormoran say, pulling her back to the moment, arms wrapped tight around him. She heard Lucy's muffled answer through the phone. Cormoran confirmed again, then hung up. 

The breath went out of him in a long hissing sigh, and she felt the tension ease slightly from his frame. 

" I'm sorry love, " He murmured, clearly searching for words. Her heart cracked a bit, feeling for him in such a raw moment. It was filled almost immediately with love for this wonderful and caring man. She pressed her fingers against his mouth after a moment. 

" You don't have to explain. Take care of her. I'll be here tomorrow. " 

He shifted toward her and looked at her through the dark of his bedroom, and smiled softly shaking his head slowly. 

" I love you." He whispered, leaning over to press his forehead to hers. 

Robins heart jumped into her throat, and she almost choked on a joyful laugh. 

" Oh my. I've never been loved for telling someone to leave before..." 

Cormoran laughed with her, and kissed her softly. 

" I love you too." She whispered back.


End file.
